


Like Wings

by faelan



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:14:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22604563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faelan/pseuds/faelan
Summary: Their love might not be epic, and their love might not be legendary, and it might not last forever, but there is something soft within their hearts that blooms like a new born bud's petals in the morning sun.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Like Wings

Stiles is seven when he losses someone for the first time. It aches, and it scrapes, and it tears something within him. Like the wings of a dove, his mother's love stays somewhere sacred within his heart. Always there, always brushing and enveloping his heartbeat with her soft wings. 

Derek is fifteen when he he losses someone for the first time. It aches, and it scrapes, and it burns out something within him. He'll never have it back. That something. A certain cord of life that got plugged out of him for good. It has doomed something within him the moment he smelt burned flesh in the wind around his family's house. 

But things happen in life. Some which we don't have control of, and some over which we have control of. Some things are just meant to be. Some things are broken, some things are repaired. Some people lose, some people win. Some birds fly, and some do not. Some wings are too broken, others never developed. 

Stiles is seventeen when Derek kisses him for the first time. It's raining outside, and Stiles can taste the rain on his tongue from Derek's wet lips. It's soft and delicate, like the wings of a timid hummingbird. Before he can figure out what just happened, Derek is gone out the window, the taste of rain still on Stiles's tongue wet and a little morose as he watches Derek running away.

Stiles is seventeen and he is pissed off. Kisses shouldn't be sad. He spends the rest of the day ignoring research and watching the rain. It seems as elusive and permanent like Derek's kiss. 

Derek is twenty when he first kisses Stiles. He drops the kiss down slowly as if approaching a baby deer caught in his leather jacket. He meant to say thank you, Stiles. He meant to walk away. He meant a lot of other things, but something within him leaped out and kissed Stiles Stilinski. He sighs the kiss out, tenderly, sadly, and walks away back into the rain. 

Some things in life nobody can foresee. Maybe it's all up to the Gods above, Derek thinks. Some things you can't escape. Like the moles on Stiles' skin or the way his fingers seem to dance with mirth when he is excited. The rain washes over Derek's lips, and only seems to amplify the taste of Stiles. 

Some things in life do not last. Derek knows this the best. 

Some things in life are too fragile. Stiles knows this the best. 

But after that quiet kiss, everything changes and stays the same. Stiles banters, Derek snarks back. Stiles twitches, Derek tenses. 

Some things are quiet and tender and too fragile. They both know this. Some things are never to be mentioned again. 

Stiles cries the first time Derek kisses him. Derek runs away the first time he kisses Stiles.

Some things are what they are. Some birds never fly again. Some hearts never heal again. 

They might not be the epic kind of love. They might not be the stuff legends are made of. They're not brazen kisses in the open like Erica and Boyd. They're not happy chatter in the sun like Kira and Scott. They're not angry kisses in a Porsche like Jackson and Lydia. 

Their wings were clipped long ago. Maybe that is why. Maybe that is why it takes them months between the next kiss. More months before the next touch. More months before the next caress. Soft, gentle, fragile. Seasons pass between their touches and hidden smiles. 

Their love might not be epic, and their love might not be legendary, and it might not last forever, but there is something soft within their hearts that blooms like a new born bud's rosy petals in the morning sun. 

Some birds, people say, can't fly. They simply don't know how. Their wings never developed properly. 

Some birds don't want to fly. They simply have no reason to. Some never had a natural predator around to make them flee and fly away. And some birds had their wings clipped by predators. Some wings are too broken. 

Walking towards a destination is fine as well, Stiles and Derek think. 

Wings be damned.


End file.
